#yet-another-heathen | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tarjapearce · 4 months

Text

Heathens (Pt. 1)

Priest! Miguel O'Hara x Nun!Reader

art by @maxro_art on IG (Her Deliverance AU is ❤️❤️🤌🏻)

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. If you're sensitive regarding religion, please don't read this. Masturbation in holy places, explicit language, wet dreams, Female anatomy, oral ( F receiving) Gentle Dom Miguel, Corruption kink, overused tropes cause yeah, a tinge of yandere undertones if you squint, mutual lust, Not Proofread ~

Summary: Father O'Hara had a little lamb ~

A/N: Another for the Miguelverse ~ Reblogs and comments are much appreciated c:

Main Masterlist

From all the places you could've find solace from war, The house of God was the least of lieus in your list. Not that you had a choice.

Family long gone after unsuspected explosions decimated your town, followed by constant tragedies such as losing friends along the way either by enemy and merciless hands or sickness. In the end, it was only you. You had outlived them all despite your short age. And now, they lived crammed up in your memories.

Happy, smiling and very much alive. Sometimes you'd see familiar faces on stranger's bodies. Grief had slowly nested within your soul and when all hope seemed lost, the chapel had saved you from what surely would end up in your premature death.

The blackest of black matched the crispest white you had ever seen, they were all donned in their beatific robes, prayer beads dangling at every gentle step they did. And there it was, epiphany unfolding itself before your experienced in horror eyes. It was your call.

All the answers to your laments and aching heart were sent as them. Nuns of the Mistbourne Parish. A church located in the outskirts of a now rundown by conflict Nueva York. The church that now played a major role in taking in as much people within their sacred walls, before they could be dispatched to a more adequate place.

Without hesitation, you had joined. And now, six years later you still remained with them. Early twenties had settled right for you as a nun. Ever devoted, compassionate, and diligent.

As time went on, the main city was reconstructed, burying it's dark tragedy under freshly built towers, hiding the pain under the rugged carpet full of concrete and wire homes, like nothing ever happened. Like if war had never stepped upon it and gave it a much needed renewal at people's lives expenses.

But no matter how many changes time brought, life in Mistbourne's Parish remained the same. Untouched by the technological advances from the outer world. There was always something to do, as simple as it was. And so far, you've been satisfied with it.

The only alterations worth of mention was your holy family expanding.

A new couple additions to the staff. More sisters, an eighty percent of them were beyond fifty. You were the youngest, their child. After all some ended up raising you within the house.

And him. The new priest.

The tallest and bulkiest man you've ever seen. As much as staring was considered rude and borderline a sin, it was unavoidable to do so, when his rusty brown eyes fell upon you. Their color unique, like he was. Never in your life had you seen someone like him, or another man besides the butcher and the guard. He had definitely been a regular man before coming here.

The soft weary expression lines in his sharp countenance revealed his own fair of lived experiences.

He towered over you, crisp white dot on his black rimmed neck line, parading his status with modest pride, and golden praying beads dangling on his narrow hips, you held yours while asking forgiveness for keep staring.

"Father."

Father O'Hara. In his mid thirties, broken family also torn by war, wearing his vows in the shape of a ring on his right hand.

"Sister"

His voice deep yet gentle, like a lullaby. His steps took him away to his own residence. The rectory outside the church.

It made sense as to how some workers were renovating it in the past few weeks. The parish last priest had been sent off in sacred duties, only to realize later that he had killed a man. Cops and detectives surely made a show out of it.

Dark times, according to Sister Lianne, one of your mother figures. But now, Father O'Hara had taken his place, erasing all traces of the previous man with concise and pithy actions.

He took his role seriously. Said masses on sundays, visited the sick, baptized people; but his most popular feat was to hear the confessions. The most intimate secrets revealed to him by either your fellow sisters or people from the town that came to expiate their sins in hope to be forgiven.

You'd sometimes run into each other, bumping casually in the narrow wooden floored halls, you'd often apologize, only to reciprocate a polite smile on both ends. He'd sometimes help you out by carrying things a bit too heavy, or you'd help him out lighting up the altar for his speech.

Yet, his hands in one occasion took an accidental taste of your body dimensions underneath your beatific robes, while preventing you from falling down the stairs. He'd scold you for being careless and carrying things that obscured your sight.

After many sorries on your behalf, you returned to the cells and went straight to your own dorm, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

His hands felt burning upon remembering the dents of your form, the curve of your waist and certainly the warmth that irradiated from you, so so close from his.

Unexpectedly it had brought memories from his past. His old life where he'd have his lovely and temporary companion for the night impaled deliciously with himself before war and hell broke loose. Before he was forced by the subversives that raided his town to create a new fake identity in the spot as they heard him speak spanish or fight a war he hadn't started, much less would end. And so, his life as Father O'Hara begun.

Odd enough, the sudden and thoughtless choice had granted him peace after witnessing so many terrors his fellow human could be capable of. His need of help has always been stronger than anything and when he finished licencing some sacrifices were required.

Poverty vows weren't an issue since his previous life had been modest yet good enough to go by. Little difference between his current lifestyle.

The obedience vow took him a little longer to fully yield. But he accomplished it to a T, just to avoid more trouble. He faked it until he made it.

His chastity vow had been a quite the challenge to perfect, but no matter how much the temptations paraded before him in the many parishes he was assigned to, he didn't give in. His libido had been sapped out of his body, like a campfire after completing it's useful cycle.

Not because of his brand new sanctity invested by holier-than-thou elders, but rather a broken mind full of grievance and other negatives that always haunted him. The gunshots and bombings too fresh in his mind.

It had been years since he touched someone in a way that wasn't holy. Since he had provoked things in someone else that clearly would make him go under the laicization from the clergy without second guessings.

Until he held you the other day.

Both of your eyes too enraptured in eachother that had sent an igniting spark to his spine. Reviving all those inactive nerves he thought his existencial toll severed long ago. His eyes had gave a brief rake over your face.

Wide and round eyes staring back, both in awe and surprise straight into his soul. Nose flaring softly just like your mouth, whose bottom lip trembled at the little erratic breaths your lungs exhaled upon being in physical contact with a man for the first time in ever, while cheeks bloomed with a not so discreet flush. And your body heat.

Jesus all mighty.

It was dangerously tempting. For a brief moment his past self had taken over, but quickly vanished upon hearing steps. Earning you to fix your crucifix and cowl nervously and him to fist his hands to refrain himself to take another taste and fix his collar and cassock.

To his conclusion, the robes you wore did not match what was underneath. He noted much, but having you wear that loose habit only fuelled his now active and sinful imagination. An opposite from your habits' purpose.

Priest life was hard, and the Celibacy vows were his biggest damnation. Mind often plagued with 'I shouldn't have done this.' 'This is ridiculous' 'Fucking idiot' 'Why did I even lie about this?' But even so, priesthood was better than ending up dead or mutilated by mines somewhere in the battlefield, in the middle of a war he didn't started, much less would end.

Government later was forcibly recruiting all those men, be them widowed or married. It didn't matter. War wasn't for him. Neither Priesthood.

But he'd bear it. He'd bear it until he was put in another parish church full of older and witty ladies he'd definitely wouldn't lust after.

----

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned."

The sweet voice behind the confessional punctured walls, perked up his ears. He had memorized a lot of things, your voice included.

"I... I haven't confessed in weeks. But it grows me concerned that... my mind is somewhere else."

Silence. You were met with silence as expected, it also encouraged you to keep talking.

"A man has flooded my thoughts and no matter how much I try to occupy myself, he's there. Leading me to temptation and sin."

A man?

His brow quirked as he slanted over the little wooden division between you, to hear better and take a peek on your face. The only men he could think of was the guard, the butcher and himself. The only men inhabiting the same area as you.

"How does this man tempts you?"

"He... He visits. In my dreams I mean and..."

A low 'forgive me, God' echoed in your stall. His throat dried and his hands rested on each side of his knees, gripping at the fabric of his pants.

"He does things I know I shouldn't partake in... But, it feels too real."

"You sound scared. Does it frightens you?"

"Very much so. But it is a strange sort of fear, Father."

"What kind of fear then?"

It took you a long pause to muster

"A fear of him stopping his visits in my mind."

He gulped.

Your hands took the crucifix and held it tighter, "For him to stop doing such sinful things to me, even in my dreams."

"Have you sinned in the carnal affairs?"

"N-No. I would never. I've never engaged in them, Father."

His groin twitched, as a hand raked over his scalp. A shaky breath that was forced to come out in silence. Only when he thought you couldn't be more innocent, there you were proving him wrong.

"Ever?"

"I promise to you with my life, I've never."

"I must know" He wetted his lips with his tongue, "What kind of things does this man does to you?"

"W-What?"

Your spine straightened up instantly, eyes wild, staring another hole into the already punctured division. Cinnamon color in his skin, the only brief glimpse you managed to see. But even so, his gentle yet cornering voice brought you down from your initial jump.

"I need to know, so I can dictate a penance."

The flush on your cheeks returned, burning bright upon remembering the all too lucid dream you've been having about your secret man. That, even though visited frequently, you still didn't know his face, just his body as it smothered yours wholy in a constant merciless and scorching rut.

All what you remembered was him feasting between your legs like a starved man. His hands maneuvering your soft mounds to then give a gentle squeeze.

"His hands are the ones that bring the sin, Father."

"Explain yourself"

His voice was sultry, buttery rich and smooth on the other side of the stall. A subtle order. To your dismay, that same demon had a similar voice tone. Alluring, speaking to you in a foreign language it had you mewling and asking for forgiveness every time you remembered, cause you had begged the faceless man for more.

"He touches and... t-tastes places I shouldn't allow no man to delve in." With a thick gulp you continued, "His tongue is... marvelous."

His eyes widened for a second as his hand hovered over his crotch

"Marvelous?"

"I feel the biggest sinner by admitting this. Please, do forgive me."

"Accountability is part of the process."

He tried to sound as professional as he could, but little did you know his mind was torturing his already crumbling resolve with such vivid details. Celibacy wasn't a problem, until now. Hearing such sinful words coming from such a unsuspecting thing like yourself, a virgin that is, made his old self to re-emerge.

Disguising himself as a sheep, while he fought through his holy learning years to tame his wolfish appetite.

There were plenty of ewes in the flock , but so far the only one that made his mouth water was you. A perfect little lamb. And now, this. We're you set to making him break his vows?

No. You weren't. He was reaching his limits to break celibacy and you were just having wet dreams about someone that definitely made him wonder about your past life. A past lover? No. Not even that. A possession? A demon? No. Definitely not.

He had heard things whenever on lunch duty. Mindless talk that revealed more to him from others and you than they intended to. You, a nun. Picked up from a ravaged village nearby and raised within the nuns, meaning, you had zero idea of what pleasure meant.

He believed, but wasn't a complete blinded idiot to faith. Your body was asking for physical and forbidden relief. Just like his.

But again, the golden band around his right hand not only forbid but also was the perpetual reminder of what was a stake.

"I know, Father. But... this man has such power over me that has pushed me to sin. He... he has pushed me to take such vulgar matters in my own hands."

Maker's mercy

His cock twitched harder and he was unable hold back and gave a firm squeeze while biting his lip to quiet himself at the long forgotten and heady pleasure that was drowning his body in an alarming rate.

As if done of being fed lies and a quick and sloppy handjob for ages. It was disgusting how easy was to sin, how well his body ached and reacted to such stimulus. How effortlessly his old habits had caught up to him.

He was the one that needed a penance now, cause he couldn't shake the image of you spread with your legs wide open, naked, sliding your fingers in between your weeping folds. You'd certainly have your mouth shut or lips bitten to avoid having anyone hear you.

He had closed his eyes while his jaw clenched, occasionally sweeping his tongue over his lips to keep them moist.

"Say it. Say your sin."

He commanded in a voice that had your cheeks flustered and your pearly nub a throb. His hand half squeezed half stroked over his clothed groin. Swollen and needy cock begging to be set free and properly taken care of.

"I..." A dry gulp and your hands went to your crotch, begging your nature to behave. Cheeks impossibly red.

"I've enjoyed touching myself after dreaming a man... f-fucks me, Father."

The word 'fuck' coming out your delicious looking yet pure lips, had his teeth gnawing at the insides of his cheek, self control harder to keep under the leash. It barked, howled even demanded for more explicit details.

Instead, he sighed quietly and cleared his throat. The sudden noise had you gripping the skirt of your habit in shame.

Miguel didn't say much besides the prayer of absolution and a couple of more prayers as your penance. The same right hand that was squeezing his cock was now being kissed by you, to confirm your forgiveness. Plump, warm and soft lips caressed his ring finger.

And once you were gone, his hand took control on its own, slid under his soutane to stroke himself. If you felt like a sinner, he was the devil himself.

The vice like grip in his own cock made him shudder, sensation foreign yet so welcoming after years without it. A little whine escaped past his gaping mouth, exhaling pecaminous breaths as he stroked like teenage boy that just discovered masturbation for the time ever. Sloppy, desperate and wet motions echoed in the now sullied stall.

He fisted his hand tighter, thick fingers coaxing a much needed release, hips rutting into his choking hand. Quiet whimpers and an array of curses flew out his mouth.

His flushed tip swayed and shook under his own rough ministrations while his jaw clenched, he clawed at the chair when hot and thick spurts of his cum dribbled down his hand and wrist before time; pooling in the hollow of his palm while earning a gutural growl that dissolved into a shaky whimper, as he curled against the wooden and punctured wall for a brief lapse of seconds to regain his composure.

"Fuck..." He had to lay against his chair to keep the light-headedness at bay, drowning in his own made pleasure, panting like he had run a marathon for hours.

He shouldn't have lied back ago. And definitely shouldn't have become a priest. He was soiling their already tainted reputation. His old self was back to stay.

He cleaned up his hand under his robes to then leave to change. He was given a glimpse as you were picking up some harvest in the orchard while he was making his way back home.

---

Window's glasses echoed with the soft rain. The parish has been quiet during weekdays, but busy for you. As winter approaches the harvest must be picked, the grains sorted and the meats stored.

You saw Father O'Hara less and less, and when you did, they were mere glimpses. He was as busy in meetings with other priests, or preparing for the mass that was now given twice a week.

If you weren't in the garden or the laundry, you were in the choir.

Lingering yet brief gazes chased each other. He had heard some nuns speaking about him, some had wonderful things to say, saying that he had been one of the most efficient priests the church has had.

Others mentioned between hushed and bashful whispers about his physical condition and how they caught him go for runs at crack of dawn a couple of times.

And you, just wanted to go to confession again and ask for forgiveness. Not to spill the advantures you had in your dreams with a man that oddly resembled like Father O'Hara, but to unleash your heart's desires to wonder what was beyond the parish.

It was your life, all you've ever known so far. But one of those trips to the city during a beneful visit to another location, had left you amazed. How could a world so different like yours could be considered bad and straying?

But again, vows. Your vows bound you, and once broken, there was no turning back. But right now all that mattered was to get to the dorms. The rest was out in another visit to the city, you were to stay to finish your tasks in the kitchen.

Weather changed so abruptly that one moment you were taking the last basket of vegetables inside, to then run for the dorms to seek refuge. But they were far and the only thing in sight was Father's O'Hara rectory.

It was either getting a terrible fever from the cold and unforgiving rain or ask him to lend you an umbrella to mitigate the glacial numbness spreading through your body. Another reason you barely went out during these days, rains in the countryside were merciless.

Miguel was tending his own garden when the rain begun drenching. Even more when the thunders broke the peaceful white noise. He removed his soutane and shirt off leaving his inner vestments free, but the desperate knock on his door made his undressing ritual to stop.

While quirking an eyebrow, he approached the door and opened it. Eyes widened in surprise upon seeing you, soaked through your bones. lips blue and shivering from the cold.

"P-Please-"

"Jesus. Come in."

He ushered you in, then rushed to get a towel. A frown in his face deepened upon hearing your teeth clatter, clothes stuck to you like a second skin.

"C-Can I... borrow your... u-umbrella?"

Without much though he smoothened the towel against your face, drying it.

"An umbrella? Really?!"

A vehement shake of your head, while trying to get him off you.

"You're freezing cold, the dorms are too far for you to leave. Don't be stubborn."

"I... I don't h-have clothes."

You mumbled through rattling teeth while your eyes darted hazily over his naked torso. He sighed.

"Unbelievable. You're freezing to death and you're worried about clothes. Get them off, I'll put them to dry."

He grumbled while taking more logs into the fire to what would be his living room. If it wasn't for the glacial and biting freeze that refused to leave your body and the foggy thinking in your brain, your cheeks would be beyond red. Crimson even from such simple act.

A weak nod you gave. Your hands stopped bracing your shivering body to focus on removing the cowl and headdress. Releasing through shaky motions your soaked hair that wasted no time to stick on your face and neck.

The next was your crucifix, and praying beads, the tempo you removed them could make a slug to easily win the race, this alarmed him greatly. He had seen what hypothermia did, way before turning himself into this holy persona.

Without much thought, he peeled off your habit that weighed you down.

"Qué mierda más pesada" (Such a heavy shit)

He held you by one arm as he removed the outer layer off. Your eyes drooped and he gave you a little shake.

"Hey, hey, look at me."

Eyes concerned raking over and it dawned on you. Those eyes, the same beautiful and unique eyes were the same that visited in your dreams.

A difficult gulp rolled down your throat as Miguel kept undressing you while grunting. Wet clothes were a pain in his beatific ass. Shivering dicreased, but your lips remained blue, a new shade of purple drawing over them.

"I-It's so cold" You mumbled through laborious breaths.

"Course it's cold. You're soaked! What were you even doing?"

The way he scolded you felt like someone you've known for years was giving you a lecture. So casual, homey, normal. It was Miguel O'Hara speaking, not Father Miguel. The ever gentle and patient man you've been helping.

"Jesús bendito, con cuánta cosa te vistes." (Holy Jesus, so many layers.)

He murmured while pushing you to his chest as he removed the dress that covered your underwear. It felt like a heatless body had been thrown over him, but the warmth irradiating from him felt heavenly. Your form instinctively nuzzled your head on his chest. He had to stop to gulp at the sensations

Even though his mind slapped itself, His couldn't help but wander over your shivering and weak body.

"W-Wait"

A small dark patch hovered above the joint of your legs. Taut peaks followed by lovely areoles ever standing and shivering under the flimsy white fabric of a short nightgown that proved even harder to remove since it clung to you like a second skin, refusing to abandon your body.

He peeled you off of everything despite your protests, but was sufficiently prude to not look over your naked form. A minute too slow and it would be late. Like the young boy in his arms, that had died out of cold once the subversive groups arrived in the forsaken town, they had forced him and the rest to go through a frozen river. He made it, but the boy didn't.

His mind wasn't in the tip of his cock.

That will come later.

But his brain had only one single purpose right now. To keep you alive but for that he needed keep you warm.

Despite the recklessness of his actions, he pulled a freshly folded duvet around while pulling you ontop of his chest and sat together near the fire. Hands moving to dry your hair as much as he could. Your skin was full of goosebumps, frosty to touch, that relished into any source of heat available. His torso, the duvet and the raging bonfire made your head spin.

It felt like his hands, rubbing some life back into your arms while he shielded your body, embracing your form with his torso and limbs. Like a paramedic on duty. Your cheek smooshed against his solid chest, it made him shudder with your own coldness but eventually the body heat treatment would be effective.

"Sorry" it was all you managed before your teeth shuddered again, and his fingers caressed your neck, placing a new wave of delicious heat on your skin.

"You'll be fine."

Your body was slowly but surely returning to it's temperature. Miguel remained there, basking you within his body, fingers gingerly caressing as much cold skin as he could under the duvet. Even his breath provided a little heat. Your erratic breaths collided against his skin, earning a discreet shudder from him.

You had drifted off to limbo, trying to sleep a bit, but unable to completely do so. Not when a man, the Parish Father nonetheless, was holding and nursing you back to an acceptable temperature with his own.

"Father O'Hara..."

Miguel's ears perked up upon you mentioning his name.

"It's Miguel."

He mumbled while drawing lazy circles on your lower back. The fire and the duvet had kept you toasty to curl even more towards him. Teeth no longer clattering.

"Thank you, Father."

"Stop."

His eyes rolled in annoyance, as his hands stopped caressing your skin to then rub his face.

"Stop calling me that."

"But that's your-"

"I don't like it."

He grumbled while looking down at you.

"Call me Miguel."

"I can't do that. Feels too disrespectful."

"I'm not Father O'Hara here, understood?"

You nodded

"Are you cold?"

"I am. Not as before but yes. Has it stopped raining?"

His own smell was making your mind a puddle, some of that fragrant incense remained etched on him.

"No. Just got worse."

You sighed while resting your head on his chest. Heartbeats a mellow lullaby.

"I'm sorry for all of this."

"You were cold and soaked." He pointed dully and bored.

The duvet was brought closer to your chest while staring at the flames. Fingers tracing a lazy and mindless pattern in his abdomen.

"I was picking up the last batch of harvest when rain poured on me."

Your toes curled in as a soft breeze flickered the fire and he tilted his head to watch you closer.

"Now I'll have to explain why there isn't enough corn."

"We'll go by. It's ok."

"Are my clothes ready yet?"

A snort that would be translated into an 'Are you kidding me?', your brow furrowed.

"You'd be lucky if they get dry during the night."

Another defeated sigh. But a sudden thought however made your cheeks burn faintly.

"D-Did you see me naked?"

"No."

Oh.

There was a silent pause before you spoke again. Curiosity tempting.

"Have you seen other women naked?"

He huffed playfully while pushing your hair away from your lovely and sweet face.

"Yes. I was a regular man before all of this."

His fingers curled up in his hand, morphing into a lazy fist

"Do you miss it?"

"Would be a liar to say if I don't."

"You... You've had sex before?"

He chuckled while with an open palm, took a taste of your skin, deliberately roaming your lower back. You shuddered.

"I did. Plenty of times."

Your audible gasp made his eyes droop hazily in a smirking grimace.

"I was told it felt marvelous."

You looked up at him and he pulled your chin upwards, he really had to keep his restrain under a leash to not take you here and there, instead, he cupped your face and hovered his lips over yours

"Do you want me to teach you, Sister?"

He was the demon. The very same one that visited in your dreams and left you a soaked mess. A little too late you'd noticed that he wasn't wearing his vow ring. It was placed somewhere else you truly couldn't care less at the moment.

You only nodded.

"Use your words, dear"

"Please", you gulped, "Teach me."

It was in that moment that he sealed your lips with his. Your first kiss ever. Chaste and sweet at the beginning that slowly turned into this obscene display of his mouth assaulting yours with his tongue in between gentle licks and bites of his lips.

A shaky whine then a whimper escaped your throat upon feeling his hands skimming down your spine. He only let you go when you tapped out for air.

"How often am I on your mind, pequeña?"

Finally the demon in your dreams had turned into a reality. Eyes were closed, unable to look at yourself melting under his touch. Nipples perked against his chest.

Plump and hot lips caressed yours but they stopped. Hands pulled you upwards, Miguel turned you around so your back was now colliding with his chest.

"You're still cold."

Cheeks grew impossibly red while he slowly peeled off the duvet out of your body, leaving you bare before him. You gulped as he moved your hair to a side and slowly kissed up and down your neck.

His hands were unable to resist any more and cupped your mounds, like in your dream. Calloused palms, rough against soft breast.

"Qué maravilla. Is this how your dream goes?

Legs smothered together, a little strip of hair etched to your pubic mount. He hummed in appreciation to then part your legs above his. Cunt pulsing at the coolness of air brushing past it.

Both of your legs dangled ontop of his as you remained nested above. Your heart beat at the playful moves his middle and index finger pulled on your nipple as his free hand darted over the joint of your inner thighs. You could feel him trembling underneath, the restrain made his breath hitch.

Your own turned erratic once more as he slid three fingers in between your folds. A shy Ah escaped your lips while he used two of them to part the outer labia

"Look at that, little one. Is that what you touch when thinking of me?"

Drunk eyes darted between your legs and his skillful hand, the engorged and pearly clit peeked out as one of his fingers flickered slowly. Focusing the right amount of pressure in it that had your moans shaky. He paused to adjust his fingers as they caressed and rubbed as much flesh as they could.

Mouth etched to your ear. Deep and needy breaths fanned behind you

"So so pretty. Look at that"

He made a show of his fingers coating themselves in your slick. One of his digits hovered over your entrance, slowly it disappeared inside. A muffled groan echoed in the void space

A wet and shlicking sound came from his ministrations, head unable to move, too enraptured into watching him sliding in and out. Skin bloomed with a new wave of goosebumps as his tongue licked your neck and earlobe, rewarding you for taking one finger deliciously, that he licked up clean before going back to rub at your clit.

"Want to add another?"

A breathless and hissing yes.

You didn't know who was with you right now since Father O'Hara couldn't. Your brain still refused to believe they were the same man. One preached and talked mass every Sunday, the other had your head spinning while his fingers explored your insides with such gentleness it only increased your whimpers and need for something more and bigger within you.

"Does that feel good, Hm?"

A dumb nod while more escaped your mouth repeatedly

"More?"

"Please!"

How could he deny to such petition? Even most when you were gripping him so deliciously and pulsating with every stroke he delivered in, grazing at your sweetest spot.

"Like this?"

He increased the tempo and your breath hitched, hips moving to meet his fingers aiding them to reach deeper and deeper.

Breaths turned into short and shallow pants, blood rushed to your cheeks. One of his digits pushed past between your lips meeting your moist muscle that wasted no time into kissing it. All you could hear was yourself and your weeping pussy that demanded for more.

But they weren't enough. Brain was sent into an override when the climax washed over you. All the pent up need and lust drowned you. Strong pulsations dictated the contractions that trapped and milked Miguel's fingers. Mind split in two in a shattering and core shaking spasm.

Mouth gaped, eyes heady and drunk with blind hot pleasure, body convulsed while an array of mumbles and clumsy curses flew out of your mouth to finally end with a delicious quivering cry.

"It's okay, shh, it's okay, pequeña." He cooed you through it while kissing your neck. Heart pounding in your ears.

It took you a moment to breath properly. How could you have missed this? How could you remain so ignorant to this? Alienated from something you were often told it was dirty and condemning.

He had only touched in the right places and you were melting. But why stopping there? You knew he also wanted you, his hard on pressing over your lower back, begging to set free.

"M-More"

He shook his head with a proud smile

"Can't do that, preciosa"

A capricious whine came through your throat, "Why not?"

"Cause, as much as I'd love to take you until you recite the bible backwards to me, you know what could happen."

"You don't want me, then? Why stopping now?"

"Far from that. And we must be discreet. Wouldn't want you to be whipped by Sister Lianne."

He took your hand and kissed your wrist. While his other limb pulled you closer to him.

"I am the only one that shall leave marks on you, my dear. Is that clear?"

"Yes, but-" He took your chin in a gentle but firm grip.

"Is that clear?"

You nodded with a pout.

"Lay on the bed."

"What? "

"Lay on the bed, so I can taste you."

Miguel could fulfil that fantasy. With Bambi-like steps you pushed yourself up and walked over his bed. Plush surface welcomed your body under a creak.

"Spread them."

Toes curled up for a second before spreading them open. Clit already tingling with a foreign yet needy sensation.

He kneeled before you, like he did every day he worshipped the Lord. But this time it wasn't God, but you. Nose nuzzled over your inner thighs while taking a whiff of your scent. Tantalizing and so alluring for his own senses.

Slow and deliberate kisses were placed above your flesh, the strip of hair that decored your pussy, to finally sink in between soaked folds.

The mewl you gave only made him feast upon you. Hands grope the sheets by instinct as he spreaded you further.

His tongue lapped and curled at your hole, slurping it without refrain and inhibitions. Devouring it like it would be his last meal.

Your dream had felt too vivid, yes, but this was completely different. This was in a whole new different level. His corruption had tainted your soul and it was gladly welcomed into your arms.

Legs twitched and shook while your head was thrown back, chest heaved with shallow breaths, unable to breath properly as his tongue was set into fucking your drooling hole.

The way his tongue fucked, dribbled and guzzled your cunt had you mewling and moaning the filthiest things you didn't think possible you could get out.

Good was an understatement, heavenly was a measly word to compare what you felt like. It was maddening and he gave you no rest.

Have you ascended? No. He just wrapped your supple thighs around his head, preventing you from squirming too much, holding your hips in place as his sloshing and assailant mouth gave you no rest.

You hadn't recovered completely from the other orgasm when a new one had approached. Lurking around your senses.

His name was moaned, over and over and when your hands were done of clinging onto the sheets, you held onto his hair. Silky and smooth chocolate locks slid under your fingers.

Eyes peeked over you, and he had to pause for a moment to squeeze his cock. Aching and weeping for him to let him free and make you his. But that would come later.

That would come much later when he had more leisure time and when he'd get protection. As much as he wanted to wreck your snug cunt, he didn't want you to be whipped and shamed like another nun was when the higher ups found out she was pregnant by an outsider.

"Miguel"

His name on your lips rich and tasty, like him.

Your voice snapped him out of his trance to immediately go for your clit. Plump lips pursed and captured the engorged nub. While his hands pushed your legs up and folded them, giving a complete access to your pulsating pussy.

He slurped and souped while his tongue teased. Wet laps sent jolts through your spine each time he tasted you.

Too much. Too good and too soon, yet he didn't stop. He shook his head like a mad dog subduing it's prey and that move alone had you gushing over his mouth. He quickly gobbled it all down.

You whined, cried and blabbled, even tried to pull his head away but he delivered you a last stroke with his tongue to then lick his lips clean.

"Please"

You mumbled through blown breaths as he watched you with a lust blown glare.

What had he done out of you?

"Greed is a sin, my dear."

What had he created?

"But if you're good enough, the wait will be worth it."

His little lamb was so willing for him, aching to be tainted, corrupted even more. And his task was to banish such whims.

He'd given you a taste of what laid ahead. A promise of a much unholy reward if you followed this path with him. But your resolve had been made the first time you came.

He'd be your first and last. There wasn't any need for another to teach you what he was compliant to demonstrate.

You'd be his to fuck. His to tame and corrupt.

You'd be his.

---

Taglist:

@plumplumpurin

#miguel o'hara #t writes✨#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #miguel o hara #miguel ohara smut #priest miguel #Miguelverse #spiderman 2099 masterlist #spiderman 2099 smut #priest au #afab reader #Miguel O'Hara x AFAB Reader

1K notes · View notes

wileys-russo · 1 month

Note

i have an idea for leah! r moves to england to be with leah and she helps with her driving since they drive on the left side of the road. during the driving lessons leah is being too bossy and demanding so then r asks someone else (maybe someone from arsenal) for help and leah gets jealous hdhshaa

under strict instruction II l.williamson

"baby are you ready to go? we've only got a certain window of time before training!" leah called upstairs, checking the time on her watch and tapping her foot with an impatient sigh.

"i'm really nervous lee. maybe we just leave it for another day?" you appeared at the top of the stairs, bottom lip clenched between your teeth apprehensively making leah smile.

"come here." your girlfriend opened her arms as you made your way downstairs and melted into them, exhaling into her shoulder.

"you've been putting this off for weeks now. you passed your learners, you've got your permit, you know the road rules, the next step is to get behind the wheel." leah mumbled softly, nudging your chin up with her hand.

"do we have to do it today?" you sighed as leah nodded. "yeah babe, we have to do it today." the blonde confirmed, pecking your lips a few times and mumbling that she loved you before letting go.

"gym bag, go!" leah nodded upstairs as you retreated from her warm and strong hold, glancing at the defender over your shoulder with a scowl as she smacked your ass on the way up, the girl simply sending you a wink and a wiggle of her fingers.

"heathen." you shot at her playfully before disappearing into the bedroom, grabbing your training bag and returning downstairs. "oh i think i left the straightener on!" you smacked your forehead and tried to go back up them again.

"your hair is braided today gorgeous." leah grabbed your hand with a knowing smirk as you sighed. "fine, lets go!" you muttered with a roll of your eyes, unable to think of anymore excuses having tried to delay the inevitable all morning without much success.

"for your first lesson we'll just go to an empty parking lot baby girl, nice and easy."

it took a little while but you soon realized it was in fact not nice and easy being anything other than in the passenger seat with your girlfriend.

"no! thats reverse. D is for drive!" leah huffed, grabbing your hand on the gear stick and moving it for you. "i thought that was for park!" you huffed back as your girlfriend stared at you blankly.

"love why on earth would D be for park?" leah scoffed throwing her hands up. "i don't know leah this is my first time!" you huffed with a roll of your eyes.

"D is drive, R is reverse, N is neutral, P is park. notice any...common similiarites? like the words that the actions match all start with the letter on the console that they stand for!" your girlfriend snapped, pinching her nose and exhaling.

"stop yelling at me leah i'm nervous!" you snapped back, knuckles turning white as you gripped the steering wheel. "you're nervous? we haven't even fucking moved the car yet babe!" leah groaned dragging her hands down her face as you mumbled something inaudible.

"alright. lets just take a moment, breathe, reset, and go again" leah forced out, both of you pausing to take a breath, your girlfriend moving the gear stick back to P.

"okay. you take the car out of park, move it to drive. keep your foot on the brake until the car is in drive, then very slowly move your foot off the brake and press down gently on the accelerator. keep your left foot away from the pedals, only use your right for the brake and the accelerator." leah spoke a little calmer as you nodded.

"okay." you exhaled shakily, moving the gear stick into D and carefully lifting your foot, pressing down on the accelator. "what the fuck is that!" you panicked as the engine roared and stalled but the car didn't move.

"you left the hand brake on!" leah groaned, head thumping back into the seat. "you didn't tell me to take it off!" you argued back, leah hurrying to shift the car back into park as you slammed your foot bac down on the brake.

"yes i did!" leah snapped with a roll of her eyes. "hand break first, shift gear from P to D, move foot slowly off the brake and onto the accelerator and off we go! its simple and we've been at it for an hour now and we haven't moved at all." leah cried out with a laugh of disbelief as you glared at her.

"do it again. go!" leah ordered as you swallowed the insult on the tip of your tongue, following her instructions only tapping the accelerator much too hard this time as the car shot forward and you panicked, pulling the hand brake up and causing a horrific screech to sound.

"jesus christ you don't pull the hand brake when you're driving babe you're not in a fucking james bond film!" leah yelled, pulling at her hair as you pushed down the hand brake and slammed down on the brakes instead, sending leahs body lurching forward and her head near smacking down on the dash.

"oh my god slowly! do i have to say it in another language? at a different speed? sloooowly." leah mocked condescendingly as your jaw clenched and you yanked up the hand brake.

"i'm done with this leah you are the worst fucking instructor ever!" you snapped, wrestling with the seatbelt, kicking the door open and stepping out as she scoffed. "oh yeah? well you're the worst fucking student ever. you don't listen!" leah jumped out her own side, the two of you swapping.

"don't slam my fucking door!" your girlfriend growled as you raised an eyebrow, opening her door again. "don't. you. dare." leah warned as you suddenly yanked it closed again with a slam and leah gasped, the two of you exploding and yelling at one another back and forth.

"just fucking drive leah we're going to be late!" you cut her off, turning your body forcefully to the side giving her your back as best you could in the car seat as leah scoffed.

"well if you were driving we might make it in time...for pre season next year!" leah mumbled sarcastically, flexing her fingers and grabbing the steering wheel.

"oh look its in park! what should i do? hand brake, shift to D, foot off the brake, onto the accelerator and off we go. how hard!" leah cooed revving her engine and racing out of the carpark as you exhaled shakily and remained facing out the window, a frosty silence encapsulating the space you both occupied.

leah had barely pulled into colney and her car space before your door was flying open, bag snatched from the back and doors slammed yet again. though you were storming angrily away from the blonde before she could even get out of the car to yell at you for it.

"good morning sunsh-" beth barely got her words out before you brushed past her, head dropped and steely look in your face that had her shutting up instantly, exchanging a worried look with steph who was by her side.

"i'm gonna take a wild guess and say thats not some sort of kinky foreplay." beth sighed watching across the carpark as leah seemed to be having an argument with herself, throwing her hands about and kicking at the tyres of her car as her friends wandered over cautiously.

"fucking door slamming, fucking hand brake, fucking shit driver, fucking girlfriend being fucking stupid, fucking can't listen!" leah ranted and raved to herself, shaking her head angrily.

"are you alright leah?" steph spoke up first, slowly as to not startle the blonde too much who grabbed her bag and puffed air out of her nose, flicking her fringe out of her eyes.

"fine." leah huffed, shouldering her bag and pausing, squeezing her eyes closed and forcing herself to take a deep breath. "alright hot head, what happened?" beth chuckled, leah exhaling heavily and launching into a very animated recount of this mornings events as the trio wandered toward the training centre.

you on the other hand still caught up in your own head had barreled right into lia and alessia who were heading to breakfast before the mornings gym session, nearly winding poor alessia who doubled over and wheezed.

"shit sorry less!" you apologized with wide eyes and bright red cheeks, the blonde waving you off with a wince. "where were you off to in such a huff? trouble with your blonde lover perhaps?" lia smiled knowingly, having had a heavy hand in your and leahs coupling up.

from the very first day you'd signed lia hadn't missed the way leahs eyes had glazed over slightly and she'd tuned entirely out of their conversation, watching you walk past and sending you a tiny wave when you smiled warmly at the two of them as you passed.

from that moment on and later finding out you were very single, the swiss woman had made it her mission to get the pair of you together.

and long story cut short, it worked.

"what happened?" lia asked softly, draping an arm around you as her and alessia guided you away to somewhere a little more private to chat. "well, i finally did my first driving lesson." you started, smiling a little at the way both girls cheered proudly.

"it went horribly." you continued on bluntly, their cheers cut off and faces dropping as you sighed and recounted the mornings events. missing leah, beth and steph wander past as leah was still throwing her hands about, too enthralled in her annoyance to notice you as she passed.

"yeah that doesn't sound very successful." alessia winced as you finished with a roll of your eyes. "she's just got no patience! i'm learning, of course i'm going to make silly mistakes and ask questions and forget stuff." you puffed air out of your nose in frustration, alessia moving to rub your back as your head fell to the taller girls shoulder.

"i'm just never going to drive, it was a stupid idea to think i could anyway." you muttered, dismissing both girls protests with a shake of your head and making your way to the change rooms as they let you go, conversing quietly with one another about what to do.

you rolled your eyes as you entered the change rooms and the conversation ceased, clearly having been about you as you made a beeline for your cubby, well aware of the eyes on your back as you did.

"morning!" steph tried to greet you cheerily, though it wasn't enough to clear the air of the awkward tension that you were the hot topic of conversation, or the moody pout sent your way by your girlfriend who was sat at her own cubby.

"oh please, don't stop yapping on my behalf leah." you quipped icily, not waiting around for a response as you grabbed your hoodie and marched out of the change rooms back toward the cafeteria.

"did it just drop about fifteen degrees in here? cause that was cold." katie snickered, kim smacking her arm with a look of disapproval as the irish woman frowned.

"what? i'm only jokin! humour helps in these sorts of situations!" katie tried, kim tugging her out of the room before she could say anything further.

"yapping! the fucking cheek of her." leah huffed, shaking her head and muttering something under her breath as she crossed her arm over her chest, the other girls encouraging she come to breakfast and try to cool off.

though right as she stood and started to follow beth and steph out another two bodies blocked the doorway, a finger poking at leahs chest. "we need to talk, now." lia stated sternly, alessia nodding in backup as beth whistled and steph pulled her swiftly out of the room.

"what did i do!" leah protested as her swiss counterpart pushed her to sit back down on the bench. "why did you upset your girlfriend? leah i did not spend three months meddling about and getting the two of you to fall in love for your big mouth to ruin it!" lia huffed as the blonde scoffed.

"me? i'm not the problem." leah argued firmly with a shake of your head. "oh? then why has your girlfriend just announced she is never driving again?" lia questioned calmly as leah's aggression began to fade fast, alessia humming in agreement.

"she said it was stupid she even thought she could." the younger blonde added on as leah groaned and buried her face in her hands. "maybe i was a little harsh." she admitted quietly after a moment, leaning back and wincing at the sharp looks from both girls stood in front of her.

alessia looked on confused as lia barked out a very harsh string of german toward leah who winced clearly affected by the words. "what?" the striker asked with a frown as leah waved her off.

"i'll tell you when you're older less, be grateful you didn't understand her." her english captain waved off, shrinking away as lia smacked her shoulder for it.

"you have some serious grovelling to do leah."

awhile later you looked up mid mouthful at the handful of bacon dropped onto your plate, your girlfriend sitting down with a charming smile making you roll your eyes unimpressed.

"is that supposed to be an apology?" you swallowed and questioned with a raised eyebrow, leah nodding happily and leaning in for a kiss. though she near choked as instead a piece of said reconciliation bacon was shoved in her mouth, the rest dumped back on her plate as you swiftly stood and moved tables.

"that was you grovelling? christ leah." alessia shook her head at the pathetic efforts as leah huffed and spat out the bacon. "food normally works when she's shitty with me!" the defender frowned, drumming her fingers against the table top.

"did you consider just saying sorry and acknowledging what you did was wrong and clearly upset her?" lia sighed as leah scowled. "i was getting there! she didn't give me a chance." the girl stabbed angrily at her egg whites.

"or maybe you lead with that leah?"

though hard as leah tried you didn't give her the chance all day, avoiding your girlfriend and her attempted apologies like she had some sort of infectious disease you didn't want to catch.

in the gym you were quick to rush over to laura to pair up, the austrian a little shocked at your choice but making no move to shun you despite the pleading glances sent her way by leah, any attempts by laura to raise your girlfriend in conversation swiftly shut down.

you paired up with alessia during pitch training, eyes refusing to meet leahs which followed you like a kicked puppy, inadvertently infuriating you further as poor alessia bore the brunt of that with the footballs which flew at her head in your frustration.

at lunch you made a point of squeezing yourself in between amanda and stina who looked surprised at your company but made no move to complain, happily chatting away with you as leah looked on longingly from a different table.

at the sound of your laughter she deflated even further, stina trying to teach you some swedish and near choking on her food at your awful attempts to pronounce the seemingly easy words, leah pushing away her tray and resting her head on her arms.

"this is truly pathetic." lia mumbled to beth who hummed in agreement, nobody able to engage leah in a conversation as she grew grumpier and grumpier at the lack of you in her life today.

after lunch was media and leah near sprinted to catch up with you, body dropping down into the spare seat by your side as you rolled your eyes and refused to acknowledge her.

but when you also didn't move leah took it as a win, crossing her arms and smiling happily. though it was wiped clean as you suddenly clambered over the seat in front and instead moved a few rows forward to sit in between kyra and vic.

"she's choosing to sit next to kyra over you? oh you're properly in the doghouse mate." beth leaned forward to tut, patting the blondes shoulder sympathetically as leah pushed her hand off and shot her a glare, moody pout glued right back to her face as her eyes bore holes in the back of your head.

come the end of training leah hovered around clearly waiting for you as you took your time, choosing to shower at colney and not at home as usual, yet another sign that leah had properly screwed up, your shared afternoon showers together often the highlight of the older girls day.

when finally you returned, damp hair pushed to one side of your head and in a fresh change of clothes the locker room was near empty, only a handful of the team still lingering about chatting.

armed with the knowledge that she was your ride back home leah took a deep breath and slung her bag over her shoulder, making her way over to your cubby where you sat packing up your things.

"you ready to go?" leah asked softly, hands fiddling nervously with the strap of her gym bag as you only glanced up at her but offered no verbal response, leahs stomach twisting as she sighed heavily.

"baby." she dropped down to her knees in front of you, not a care for the others still present in the room as you glanced at her again and only raised an eyebrow.

"i am really really really sorry for being so impatient and unreasonable this morning, i promise to work on it for next time. can we give it another try? please babe." leah spoke hopefully, hands clasped together.

"there's no need." you brushed her off with a shake of your head as your girlfriend frowned.

"please don't give up on learning just because i royally fucked up our first lesson. as much as i adore my beautiful passenger princess i'll sleep a little easier knowing in an emergency you're able to drive yourself." the blonde attempted a joke, wincing at the frosty silence which followed.

"i'm not giving up." you stated, zipping up your bag and swiftly standing as leah nearly fell back onto her ass but caught herself and also stood. "good. then lets give it another try." the taller girl smiled and offered you the car keys as you shook your head.

"i told you leah, there's no need." you pushed them back toward her as she frowned in confusion. "but i thought that-" she started before you stepped around her and cut her off.

"lia's going to teach me." you announced, the brunette appearing by your side seemingly out of thin air with a smile that you returned, leah's jaw nearly hitting the floor.

"i-you-what!" she spluttered out in disbelief as you shrugged.

"you said it yourself, you're impatient and unreasonable and i can't learn with an instructor like that, so wally is taking me. i'll see you at home." you nodded, lia grinning at the gobsmacked blonde before handing you her car keys and the two of you were off.

"what the fuck just happened?"

"thank you wally, that was much much much better." you breathed a sigh of relief as the swiss woman pulled up outside yours and leahs shared flat with a kind smile. "you will learn in no time lieben. same time tomorrow?" she offered as you eagerly agreed, pulling her into a hug before exiting her car, throwing her a wave and a grin before wandering up the driveway.

you were unable to miss the stroppy blonde sat on the front steps, decked out in a grey tech fleece tracksuit, head covered with a hood as her eyes followed your journey closer and closer to her until you came to a stop at the bottom of the stops.

"hi." leah mumbled, uncrossing her arms as you hummed. "hi." you echoed back, most of your anger from earlier having melted away by now. "i missed you?" leah tried sincerely, offering you a smile as you couldn't help but allow the corners of your mouth to upturn.

"of course you did, its nearly dinner time and you burn water." you chuckled, making your way up the stairs and gently pushing at her hood covered head as leah exhaled a long awaited breath of relief that it seemed you were no longer upset with her as she hurried to follow after you.

the door unlocked you made your way inside, only able to get one shoe off before a body latched onto you from behind, apologies mumbled over and over into your neck as leahs chin hooked over your shoulder.

"its fine, but lia is going to teach me to drive. okay?" you warned firmly, turning your head to meet her gaze as leah nodded. "i love you." leah promised as you wiggled off your other shoe and dropped your bag, turning around in her grip, arms winding around her neck.

"i love you too. even if you are horribly impatient, hot headed, stubborn, unreasonable and a terrible cook." you mumbled against her lips as you drew her in for a kiss.

"hey! this morning had nothing to do with my efforts in the kitchen." your girlfriend pulled away with an offended frown making you smile.

"i know, but it's hardly a lie baby." you teased softly, sweetly pecking her lips a few more times before letting her go, leaving your bag to be taken back upstairs later, wanting to get a head start on dinner.

"whats all this?" you asked in surprise, coming to an abrupt halt at the fort assembled in the middle of your living room, a video game loaded onto the tv and two remote wheels sat side by side on the floor.

"well. i thought since i did so poorly this morning in the actual car we could get a little practice in here together on this game i found, and i can work on my teaching." leah explained, rubbing her arm as your eyes softened.

"you're such a sap." you smiled, wrapping yourself around her in a tight hug as she huffed. "am not." your girlfriend muttered, finger tilting your chin up so she could kiss you softly. "are too, but don't worry i'll make sure to tell everyone." you teased, pinching her cheek as her eyes rolled and she wiggled away from you.

"you are truly so insufferable. i try to do something nice and-" she cut herself off with a huff as you laughed and grabbed at her again, hand on the back of her neck forcing her head down so her mouth pressed against yours.

"come on then, few laps and i'll start dinner." you grabbed her hand and tugged her over to the immaculately made little fort, melting even further at the cosy blankets and pillows set up inside.

"leah!" you squealed as you were tackled down into them, your girlfriend hovering over you with a cheeky grin as her hood fell off and her messy bun clung on for dear life to the top of her head.

"know whats better than a virtual driving lesson?" leah questioned, leaning down so her lips just ghosted yours, fingers interlocking and pinning your hands either side of your head, moving to straddle you properly and you shook your head and her wolfish smirk widened.

"virtual car sex."

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #leah williamson imagine #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs #engwnt

927 notes · View notes

brutal-nemesis · 4 months

Note

14: A song that you would love played at your wedding.

28: A song by an artist with a voice that you love.

14: A song that you would love played at your wedding.

Idk if i'll have like a wedding wedding but this song is very romantic in a morbid way which is good vibes imo

28: A song by an artist with a voice that you love.

The lead singer's voice is so hot to me,,,,and this song in particular I didn't like the song itself too much but the way his voice sounds in it is so good it ended up in my liked songs anyway and I've grown to love it all around

#ask game #yet-another-heathen #thanks wick!!#sorry this took a bit to get to #had the new year's party last night and i stayed the night at my bf's so i didn't get much laptop tumblr time until now #i refuse to do anything that involves copy pasting links or formatting text on my phone too annoying #one of my best friends said she'd like skulls to be played at her wedding so it came to mind when i read the question lol #and i dont mean i dont wanna get married my bf and i want to we've talked about it #but idk if i want like a *wedding* it just seems like a huge pain #id rather just do it at the courthouse and then go out for ice cream #fpc singer man...your voice so pretty...what would it sound like if you screamed in pain...jus wonderin...

7 notes · View notes

starlit-hopes-and-dreams · 9 months

Note

21. FLESH - Which OC would you most like to look like?

28. ILLUSION - What is the best line of description in your WIP?

34. MUNDANE - Would you survive in the shoes of your main character?

Thanks for the ask, Wick! <3 From this ask game.

21. FLESH - Which OC would you most like to look like?

Alaia from Shattered Dreams! I love red hair, and hers is multitonal and sounds so pretty, like:

"Human? That looks like a fae to me," he replied, catching sight of the shifting gold and copper accents in the flame red hair whipping around her face.

Her hair was so bright amid the sea of white that it was shocking. The color variation among the reds and coppers was fascinating, and he had stared at it so much that he could've sworn he'd seen the colors flicker, like flames dancing over a log.

It was so red. Like flame red. Autumn colored leaves red. Setting sun red. Flickering coals in a dying fire red. Variations upon variations, shot through with the copper streaks she was used to, along with new streaks of dark gold. She fanned it out on the table in front of her, unable to believe her eyes. This was fae hair. Why did she have fae hair?

Hmm, that's a lot of comparison to the flames... oh well 😅

Also, she ends up with pointy elf-like ears, and I like those too :D

28. ILLUSION - What is the best line of description in your WIP?

😬 I don't necessarily think description is my strong point but... hmmm. I'm a big fan of my fairy glade, so let's go with that one.

Darian tilted his head to look at the stars sprinkled across the cloudless night sky. He was afforded the view through a hole in the canopy of the Epey trees that shaded the rest of the glade, their broad leaves tinted silver in the light of the moon. Under the branches at the edge of the glade, the multi-colored lights of the tiny sprites swooping around as they played flashed in his peripheral vision. Motes of magical energy floated in the air, sparkling in the stream of moonlight like dust particles revealed in sunlight. The hot spring in the middle of the glade bubbled gently, its waters cloudy with minerals. A few sprites whizzed over to circle the pool excitedly, trailing blue and silver and red light behind them.

I guess that's more than a line, huh. *scratches head & mumbles about how following directions is also not a strong point*

34. MUNDANE - Would you survive in the shoes of your main character?

Noooo, I would not.

I would be so dead XD I don't even need to specify a character. All of them. Any of them. Dead, dead, dead, many times over 😬😅

#starlit asks #yet-another-heathen #i am a mean author i think XD #the descriptions of alaia's hair came from the sequel to shattered dreams- fractured soul #and the fairy glade description is from shattered dreams :)#shattered dreams #shattered soul

5 notes · View notes

halcyone-of-the-sea · 6 months

Note

WOW I can't believe you opened them! I adore you! Please Tumblr lacks Krueger fanfic, can you write something NSFW enemies to lovers, where he and the reader joined Chimera at the same time and are at "war" with each other mainly because reader is an ass, she likes to annoys Krueger by constantly reminds him that she is younger (like four/five years, no more) than him and more skilled as a soldier and sniper making Krueger get on his nerves? Sorry for my wtriting, english is not my language and i'm not good at it, i hope i was clear enough and i also hope i formulated the right question without violating your requests. Thank you and good job at the flower shop!

—Ain't Giving Up My Pride

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [You get on his nerves, partially because you want to. But what happens when he finally snaps?] ❞

You have to wonder if you expected to be ass-up and face-down getting fucked in the back of a storage room today, and you have to admit, the answer is most likely a resounding negative.

But war is always interesting.

Krueger and yourself had a little…thing…going on. Call it what you will—a rivalry, a large annoyance, whichever word better fits the state of twin crashing atoms constantly waiting to prove something to the other. To you, any real satisfaction can only be drawn by the way his shrouded head would look your way with obvious scorn—imagining a sneer to his lips as you walked past and smirked, loudly talking about your success at the firing range.

About beating the top mark yet again. Krueger.

“Interesting, hm?” He grunts to you now, belt jingling as you hide your burning face into your arm; pelvic bones getting repeatedly pushed into the crate. “Little winner, yes? Willing to bet she only feels good when she gets filled up by my cock.”

You open your mouth to speak, but his hands on your hips drive them backward and forward, skin smacking rapidly as your speech is reduced to garbled whines and loud moans. It was pathetic how fast he was already working you to that point—pussy spasming and legs kept open by Krueger’s hands.

“Hm?” The man leans in close, his fully-geared chest stapling itself to your spine. “What was that?”

“F-fuck,” you blink quickly.

He chuckles, covered face hidden from you. “That is what I—”

“Fuck better than you shoot,” you gasp, hips instinctually meeting his thrusts as your toes curl, pants at your feet, and a stain of fluids dripping down to them. The man falters, pace stuttering as you shove yourself back into him with a shiver down your vertebrae.

His throat releases a low growl moments later, hand going to the back of your neck as you smirk. But any chuckle is lost as you’re pulled by the collar of your shirt backward, getting kept to Krueger’s front as the prodding ruthlessness of his member drives itself home again and again.

You gasp loudly, eyes snapping back and mouth releasing tight moans before a hand covers your lips, a low snarl in your scalp.

“You always have such a mouth, Vögelchen,” he grunts, feeling the effect of your tight cunt himself as he draws closer to his finish—what you did to him was criminal; no one should make him act like this, like a heathen in the back rooms seeking a carnal release into your womb. “How do I fix this, then?”

You pant from behind his hand, letting him play with you like a doll because, damn if this wasn’t the best sex you’d ever had.

“Ah,” he replies to himself, that smooth voice right in your ear as he moves a hand down to play with your clit. You tense up, noises of pleasure heard from behind the tight press of his grip. “Yes, that’s it.” Your release snaps through you like a storm—not even a proper build-up before it shatters what little of your mind is left at this point. Not once did Krueger’s hips slow or stop, pushing you through it until you were whining like a dog, another round started just like that even as the man rides his own high, spilling into you.

The wet splatter of cum leaks to the floor as you’re back facing the crate, eyes rolling back into your head and body shaking with unchecked pleasure. A shuddering growl is right in your ear, a heavy body rocking against your spine.

“I have to fuck it out of you.”

#rough smut #cod krueger #sebastian krueger #krueger x reader #krueger x you #cod #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty #x female reader #call of duty x you #cod mw22 #mw2 #mw2 2022 #cod smut #call of duty smut #x reader smut #smut

760 notes · View notes

izurou · 1 year

Text

most nights, katsuki will sit under the covers with his debriefing file and a blank, uninterested stare—flipping through the documents as you prance around the room getting ready for bed.

he’s seen you do this an endless amount of times, and has even been dragged into the commotion on numerous occasions—ending the night with a green face mask and a faux frown.

still, he doesn’t really get it.

of course, brushing your teeth is a given, and he won’t fuss about you washing your face—but the line has to be drawn somewhere, right?

pillow mist—the latest villain.

“babe, seriously?” he coughs, sitting up a bit as he sticks his tongue out and holds a hand over his throat. maybe, you went a little trigger happy with the black chamomile, but he’s being dramatic. “it’s in my fuckin’ mouth!”

“there’s an easy fix for that, y’know,” you smile, running your thumb and index finger across your lips in a zipping motion.

his eyes grow wide—not out of anger, or shock, but amusement. your smug comments are never ending and supremely annoying, but he fucking loves them—they’re cute. you’re cute.

he watches, tonguing at his cheek as you plop down in front of the large floor length mirror like a heathen—skincare splayed out in front of you.

you would do this in the bathroom, but you’ve been told not to by your boyfriend—who’s just looking to maximize his precious time with you, even if it means choking back the polluted air.

though he’d still argue that you are the only one who should be choking on anything while in the bedroom—not him.

“katsuki, stop that,” you laugh, catching his gaze through the reflection as your fingers run along your cheeks, working in your moisturizer.

“huh?”

stop what? existing? he’s just sitting there, hasn’t moved a muscle or opened his mouth in almost two whole minutes, and you’re telling him to stop? what the hell do you want from—

“you’re staring.”

oh, well—you’re wearing his shirt, the black long sleeve that hangs off your shoulder just a tad and drowns your hands in excess fabric. he gave you this shirt after your first night together, and while it’s no more than a piece of cotton—it’s special.

it reminds him of that morning, when you padded into the kitchen and asked what he was doing. he was making breakfast, obviously, but you insisted he come back to bed.

you were annoying, selfish—he had no more than an hour before he had to be at the agency, and you were asking him to skip the most important meal of the day to cuddle with you. unbelievable.

nevertheless, it was then that katsuki knew he was in love—with you passed out on his chest, in his shirt, just ten minutes before he had to leave.

so yes, he’s staring.

“am not,” he scoffs, keeping his eyes glued to you as you dab yet another cream onto your fingers. what the hell are you concocting over there? “i’m makin’ sure you don’t kill us with all that shit.”

if anyone were going to kill us—it would be you. the sentence pops into your head, but dies before it ever has a shot at tumbling out of your mouth.

maybe, that would’ve been something you said to the katsuki you first met years ago—but never to the one sitting in your bed right now. if you told the public what you did on that morning, you’re almost certain that half the population would be wondering how you lived to tell the tale—because no way in hell would the dynamight let that slide, right? everyone and their mother knows that his job as a pro hero is incredibly important to him.

but, not once in your relationship have you ever felt an ounce of unease, anxiety, anything, that’d make you doubt your safety for a single second—because you are more important to katsuki.

“you still with me?” he interrupts your selfish train of thought, pushing himself off the headboard to get a better look at your face. you’re a little zoned out. “fuckin’ fumes are gettin’ to you, huh?”

“i’m fine kats,” you grin, stepping back into reality as you screw the lid back onto your eye cream. you turn, sharing your smile with him.

“c’mere,” he rasps, leaning back onto his freshly scented pillow and discarding his papers onto the nightstand.

“or what?” you challenge, looking to rile him up a little before you inevitably go over there.

“you wanna find out?” he smirks, mind flooding with a tidal wave of lewd thoughts that he’s most definitely going to share with you later.

the voice in your mind screams yes, and you rise to your feet—shuffling over there in your slippers a little too eagerly, you’re sure.

you climb atop the covers and sit beside him—milliseconds away from opening your mouth to say something that would’ve gotten you into even more trouble—but he pulls you down for a kiss.

maybe he knew what was coming and saved you, or maybe this is you finding out. reason aside—he’s kissing you. slowly, his mouth moves against yours, and subtly, he tugs on the collar of your shirt—pulling you impossibly close.

“katsuki,” you sigh, running a thumb over his cheek as you lean your forehead against his. he’s pretty—strong, sharp features contrasting the softness behind his eyes. you know this look, it’s the same one he gave you that morning. gosh, how did you get so damn—

“hey,” he barks, grinning wide as he wraps a hand around your wrist. “you starin’ at me?”

#izurou #bakugo x reader #bnha x you #bnha x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo fluff #bakugo hcs #bakugo headcanons #bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #mha x reader #bnha fluff #bakugo katsuki x reader

5K notes · View notes

cyberwhumper · 3 months

Text

Imran had already known, going in, that the conditions of the breeding facility where he now found himself standing would be less than ideal when compared to his old employer. He knew the smaller budget would reflect on the conditions the animals were kept, how the entire process was executed, and what the odds of the transaction working out were. Yet he is still shocked when the cages are small, cramped, filthy. His heart aches for each and every single one of the biopets kept within, but he knows he realistically can't possibly save them all.

Just one. Just the one. That would be enough.

With every step further into the facility, the mental image of Horus degrades in his mind. Guilt gnaws at the forefront of his conscience, and it comes crashing down heavily once he sees with his own eyes what had become of the once powerful animal he had met all those years ago.

Tied to the center of the tiny room, the creature barely had any slack to move. Its body is covered in a litany of sores and bruises, and the emaciated skin clings to bone like a tight-fitting suit. As soon as its gaze meets the handler's, a shrill noise leaves its mouth. Terror, it seems, was all that remained. The knot in Imran's stomach feels so tight it's nauseating.

He hopes to appease the animal despite the handler's amused comments over the pointlessness of the effort. Horus doesn't look at him. Doesn't even seem to recognize him. It pulls away from Imran as best as it can, tail pinned between its exhausted legs, tears streaming down its face, body shaking so hard it makes the chains holding it in place clink. Talking to it has no effect. Even touching it, an act that would have always promptly elicited a bite response, does nothing.

Imran barely remembers the rest of the transaction.

At some point money had exchanged hands, the biopet was sedated, and he now found himself clutching the battered creature tight to his body as if it could possibly flee. The walk back to his vehicle feels shameful.

What have I done? No. I couldn't possibly have known this would happen. But it only happened because of me, didn't it?

The device on the back of its skull has been removed. Vandermeer leaves no loose ends. Imran doesn't want to think of what the withdrawals must have been like for the animal to go through. Death would have been a kinder choice than this.

The disgraced doctor swallows his guilt, and gently lays the biopet on the backseat. The drive would be long, but the worst, he hoped, was already over.

I'm so sorry, Horus. I promise I'll take care of you this time.

[OC INDEX]

Tag list: @whumpsday // @demondamage // @squidlife-crisis // @whumpedydump // @cyborg0109 // @whumpfish // @astrowhump // @the-scrapegoat // @whatwhumpcomments // @dustbunnywhump // @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question // @dokidokisadness // @moss-tombstone // @lambofmine // @maracujatangerine // @pinkraindropsfell // @writereleaserepeat // @blood-and-regrets // @littlespacecastle // @snakebites-and-ink // @unforgiven235 // @lonesome--hunter // @atomicsandwichprince // @writereleaserepeat // @whatamidoingherehelpme // @skittles-the-whumpee // @the-blind-one-speaks // @i-eat-worlds // @devourerofcheesecake // @theauthorintraining // @otterfrost // @mommymarichatfurever // @whumpifi // @catnykit // @bitchaknso // @softmutt444 // @yet-another-heathen //

If you’re interested in being added to the tag list, please let me know!

#whumpuary2024 #whumpuaryno12 #Rescue #oc #art #whump #bruises #whump art #original character #pet whumpee #pet whump #original story #whumpblr #whumpee #tokimeki art #caretaker #bridal carry #Horus #Imran

239 notes · View notes

coyotehusk · 4 months

Text

├┬┴┬|•⊖•) ├┬┴┬| art tag: @whumpsday @whumplr-reader @burnticedlatte @yet-another-heathen

#coyote husk draws #oc #Addison #captive #shackled #an AU where Marcy is robbing a house and accidentally stumbles upon a Addison chained up in the basement #I haven't written much of this story yet #just sort of daydreamed about it #anyway I'm beat #I'm gonna try to take a break for a bit #focus on some pressing projects #If you see me on here the next few days #please kick me off #oop sorry forgot the tag list!

377 notes · View notes

ewanmitchellcrumbs · 10 months

Text

Deathless Death

Pairing: Osferth x nameless female character (third person perspective) Warnings: Religious guilt. Smut. Fingering. Slight exhibitionism. Oral (f receiving). Gratuitous Hozier references. Word count: 3.5k

Summary: When a young woman's father is killed following Skade's attack on the priests of Alton, Osferth agrees to take responsibility for her, feeling a need to protect a fellow Christian. However, the longer they travel together the deeper they have each other questioning their faith. Based on this request. Series masterlist.

Author's note: No gods, no masters, no tag lists. Only scabs community label fics. If you find yourself tempted to slap a label on this, please block me instead.

The Lord works in mysterious ways. This is a belief that Osferth has always clung firmly to, it is the only way he can justify his existence; the result of a union between a serving girl and a deeply religious king who, so embarrassed by his extramarital indiscretion, had ensured that Osferth was enrolled as a novice monk as soon as he was old enough, and refused to ever acknowledge him as his son.

Osferth is a bastard, yet he must have a purpose, for God does not give life without intent. He feels he has found his reason for being when he crosses paths with Uhtred, a man his uncle, Leofric, had always spoken kindly of. He offers to serve Uhtred as a warrior, though he has no fighting experience. This is the divine path chosen for him, he is certain of it. He clutches the hilt of his sword as tightly as he often grips the cross that sits around his neck in times of anguish, and does his best to be brave in spite of how afraid he feels.

Reluctantly he learns the ways of ale and women, surprised when the Lord does not smite him down for his sins. He surmises that he has misinterpreted the teachings of the Holy Book; a life of piety does not have to mean an existence endured in abstinence. Though his faith in God never once falters, he grows to enjoy, and even seek out, the pleasures he’d once mistaken for temptations. They are not a means for him to stray from the light, but another outlet in which he can revere it and give thanks.

It is not until he reaches the village of Alton with Uhtred and his men that he discovers the true purpose of the journey he has embarked upon. A group of Danes with a seeress named Skade in their midst has attacked the village, killing all of its holy men.

That is where he finds her. Such a fragile looking thing, sobbing her heart out while huddled behind a vegetable cart, clutching her cross in much the same way he used to do with his.

“Don’t be afraid.” He reassures her calmly, crouching so his face is level with hers.

“Are you an angel?” She asks tearfully, her eyes wide and imploring.

Osferth cannot help but smile at that. For you I’d like to be.

With gentle persuasion, Uhtred agrees to allow Osferth to bring the girl along, provided he is responsible for her. He is all too happy to agree to that. Her mother is long dead and the attack on Alton has killed her father, she has no one else. He was meant to meet her, he feels it in his heart.

Naturally, she is fearful of the others, her only prior encounter with heathens had ended in the death of her only living relative and left her all alone in the world. She clings to Osferth, but he does not mind it. He sees a lot of himself in her, how scared he’d been when he’d first left the monastery to accompany Uhtred. But if she is anything like him, she is resilient and she will pull through this.

As the weeks pass, her face becomes less marred by fear and grief. She is beautiful, Osferth realises. He has been grateful to have someone to bow his head in prayer with, however, the way that she snuggles next to him for warmth in front of the campfire, how closely she leans back against his chest as they ride together and the proximity in which she lays her bed roll next to his no longer feel so innocent, at least not to him.

He feels ashamed for harbouring such illicit thoughts about her. Her piety makes him feel like he is the worst kind of sinner. She does not partake in ale and stays quiet when the rest of the group share lewd jokes. Where her prayers are earnest and heartfelt, his feel flimsy and disingenuous. He would renounce the Lord and worship her instead if she asked it of him. The idea makes his stones ache. When she shivers and huddles to him for warmth it occurs to him that he’d burn everything in his path if only for her to never feel cold again.

Guilt blooms heavily in his chest at the thoughts and feelings she elicits from him, especially when she looks at him, her eyes are always filled with gratitude and adoration. He has grown to crave her gaze, despite the fact that she will never view him as anything more than a protector.

When it becomes too much for him to bear, he seeks the comfort of the nearest brothel. With each thrust into the whore beneath him, he imagines her face, how those hands that fold so delicately in prayer would feel clinging to his shoulders, how soft and supple her flesh would be against the wiry hardness of his own. When he reaches his peak, picturing her, he comes harder than he ever has before in his life. It feels like he has died and approached the very gates of Heaven.

If that is how it feels merely to think about her, he wonders what it would be like to actually be inside of her. It would surely feel holy and sacred, a pleasure not meant for mere mortals. For the second time that night he craves her, and so he seeks out another woman offering her services in the pleasure house.

He pays them well, and he is not unkind to them. He is convinced that that is why they fight over him the next day. He is mortified, especially when he sees that she is watching. She will think him godless, sinful. He hopes that the Lord is merciful and does not intend for her to leave him. He sends a silent prayer of thanks when she remains by his side in the days that follow.

It is not until Uhtred, Sihtric and Finan pay a visit to Alfred, and leave Osferth and her back at camp that he realises they’ve never truly been alone together. He shifts uncomfortably on the log he sits upon, glancing up from the flames of the fire every so often at her, unsure of what to say. She eyes him curiously the entire time, the warmth from the fire and the sunny afternoon meaning she does not snuggle to him as she usually would. Secretly he is disappointed.

“Do you still believe in God?” She asks quietly.

Her gaze is timid and as Osferth turns to meet her eye, she looks to her lap as though ashamed to have asked.

“Of course I do, my lady,” He replies softly, smiling at her. He wants more than anything for her to look at him again, there is something reverent in the way she regards him that makes his chest swell and his cock twitch. He could die happily with a single glance his way from her. “My faith has never waivered.”

“You are not as devout as the people from back home.” Her fingers pinch and stroke over the fabric of her skirt as she says this, not looking up at him as he sits across from her.

“I used to be,” He admits with a slight shrug, wondering if she thinks less of him for his perceived lack of faith. “I suppose travelling with Uhtred has taught me that faith does not mean deprivation. The Lord made life for living.”

She nods, her voice barely above a whisper, as her eyes flicker to his. “Is that why you visit brothels, and why those women fight over you?”

He feels his cheeks heat up as she asks this, and suddenly it’s his turn to look away, embarrassed. He takes a moment to consider his reply, not wanting to sully her innocence with vulgarity, or say anything that might frighten her. “I was celibate when I was a monk…” He begins awkwardly. “I’m not anymore. Truthfully, partaking in the pleasures of the flesh feels like the closest experience to meeting God without dying.”

He knows he has turned pink all the way to the tips of his ears by the time he finishes speaking, he cannot bear to look at her for fear of what he might see in her eyes. She must think he is utterly depraved.

The moment of silence between them hangs thick and uncomfortable before she finally breaks it. “If that is why you are fought over…then I am eager to find out for myself.”

His head snaps up, his eyes wide, stunned and unsure of if he has heard correctly, it seems too forward a statement for such a pious little thing like her. However, her stare is steady and unwavering as it meets his, causing his breath to hitch. He hadn’t misheard her and she meant every word.

The cracking of a twig causes them to finally look away from each other, as they turn to see the others returning. He has never been displeased to see any of them before, but can’t help but wish they’d left it a little longer to come back.

Her words play on a loop in Osferth’s thoughts. I am eager to find out for myself. He frantically strokes himself to release that night, once more plagued by visions of her, the silkiness of her hair, her scent, the dulcet tone of her giggle. There is no sweeter innocence in his mind than the gentle sin that he shares with her.

There is a storm the following evening. Though they are camped beneath a thatch of trees, protected from the worst of the downpour, it does little to block out the boom of the thunder and the crackle of lightning. She whimpers at every crash, clearly frightened, and Osferth’s heart aches for her. He’d do anything to make sure the expression of fear and sadness she wore for the first few weeks they traveled together never returns.

He pulls her tight to him, wrapping the furs around them both as they sit around the fire with the others. They don’t bat an eye at the familiarity between the two, understanding of the fact that she finds comfort in a fellow Christian’s presence and that Osferth is simply offering kindness to someone in need of it.

She melts into his embrace and he allows his hands to wander over her beneath the furs, tracing the curves of her through her dress. He has never dared to touch her like this before and she looks up at him questioningly, though makes no move to stop him.

Emboldened by her silent consent, he strokes her hair with his free hand, while allowing the other to push up her skirt. She gasps at this and buries her face in his chest. He holds her tighter while Uhtred, Finan and Sihtric continue their conversation, all assuming she is just startled by the storm that rages above them.

Her inner thighs are velvety smooth as his fingertips trace over the flesh of them. Not even angel’s wings feel as divine as this, he thinks. As the pads of his digits make contact with the gusset of her smallclothes he draws in a shaky inhale at finding that it is damp with her arousal. It darkens the desire within him to have confirmation that she is just as affected by him as he is by her, and he pushes her underclothes to the side, stroking through the slickness of her folds.

She shudders against him, her breathing growing heavier and he quietly shushes her, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. He looks up to see Finan give him a sympathetic smile, clearly assuming Osferth is comforting her, before he is distracted by Uhtred swatting him softly with the back of his hand in order to gain back his attention.

Osferth looks back down at her, she is peeking up at him from where her head rests against his chest and in the flicker of the firelight he can see that her pupils are wide with lust. It is a look he has seen on the faces of many of the women within the pleasure houses he’s visited over the years. To see it burning bright within the eyes of someone so pure is enough to drive him to madness with the desire it awakens within him.

Shielded from view beneath the furs, he circles her pearl with precision, silently delighting in the way she clutches at his robes and bucks slightly up at his hand. He feels she’s growing close when her body tenses against his and she stares up at him, worry evident in how her brows pinch together. Poor thing has never peaked before.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He murmurs, coaxing her to let go.

He cradles her head to his chest as she trembles and gasps against him, before finally going limp. Osferth withdraws his hand, allowing her to slump sleepily against him, smiling softly down at her as her eyes drift closed.

He knows in that moment that she will be both his salvation and his damnation, and he welcomes both with open arms.

It is another week before they are left alone together, and life carries on as normal. They do not speak of what happened beneath the furs on the night of the storm, despite the fact that it’s all Osferth can think about.

The others head away from camp one evening to scout the locations of a possible attack from the Danes. It is too dangerous for her to come along, so Osferth remains behind so she is not left alone. This time she seats herself next to him, and he feels his mouth run dry, heart hammering in his chest as he struggles to think of what to say to her.

He startles when she places her hand on his. “You are right,” She says with a shy smile. “It felt…like something divine…when you touched me.”

Osferth swallows thickly. “You liked it?” He asks, already knowing the answer, but desperate to hear her say it.

She nods, chewing her lip nervously. “I did. Does that make me a sinner?”

His eyes widen in mild horror that she could ever consider herself such. “No, that is something you could never be.”

“I am not repentant though,” She muses, her eyes slowly meeting his. “I have thought of nothing else.”

“That is only natural.” He tells her, suddenly aware of how close their faces are, noses almost brushing. His gaze flits to her lips momentarily. Osferth has never kissed a woman before, though he has fucked plenty; the ones he exchanges coin with do not allow such intimate gestures. He desperately wants to kiss her though.

He is surprised by her boldness when she leans in first. It is a quick peck to his lips, which she rapidly withdraws from, looking sheepish. He cups her cheek, coaxing her back and presses his mouth to hers with more pressure. She softens against the movement and for a moment it feels as though time has stopped for Osferth. There is only her. It is a kiss riddled with youthful inexperience and yet he does not think there has ever been anything better.

“Will you…” She mutters against his lips, clearly uneasy with attempting to ask for what she wants.

“Touch you?” He finishes for her.

“Yes,” She whispers, “I want to feel…” She places a hand over her face, giggling. “I have never laid with a man before. I do not know what to ask for.”

“It’s okay.” He reassures her. “I understand.” Osferth coaxes her to sit on his lap as she had the night of the storm, only this time there are no furs to cover them, and he rucks her skirt up around her hips, rather than slipping his hand beneath it.

“Take these off for me.” He says, plucking at her smallclothes.

She does as he instructs and he pulls her tight against him, her back flush with his chest as his arm snakes around her waist, dipping his hand between her legs. She is wet already and he cannot help the groan that escapes him as his fingers make contact with her core.

He circles her bud slowly and she clamps her mouth shut, cutting off the mewl that threatens to spill forth.

“You don’t have to be quiet this time.” He tells her, as she turns her face into his neck, her breath coming in hot puffs against his skin.

Tentatively he dips a finger into her entrance, conscious of the fact that she has never had anything inside of her before - the thought that he is the first makes him swell painfully hard against her rear as it presses back into his lap. Her grip on his digit as he inserts it is vice-like and he wonders how she’d feel squeezing around the length of him, if she ever allows him to take things that far.

He sets a steady rhythm of dragging his finger against a rough patch inside of her that causes sounds that are prettier than any of the songs he’s heard at æfensang to spill forth from her, while circling her pearl with his thumb.

She squirms against him, her arm reaching above and behind her to wrap around his neck, her fingers scrabble desperately at the back of his robes. Her jaw is slack, her eyes glassy and Osferth believes that if the Heavens could speak then her wanton cries of pleasure would be their mouthpiece.

She falls apart with a violent shudder, clenching ceaselessly around his finger and he withdraws it slowly as she begins to calm, continuing to hold her close. Though he is pleased to have brought her to peak, he feels disappointed that the moment is over so soon. He wants, needs, longer to enjoy her.

“You are so beautiful.” He whispers to her, pressing his face to her hair. “Will you allow me to taste you?”

“Taste me?” She asks, confusion etched across her pretty features. “I do not know what you mean.”

“I will show you.” He tells her, ushering her off of him and laying down. “Come here.”

There is no question in Osferth’s mind that he would ever allow her to lay upon the ground, she is too good for that. He will gladly let her sit atop him so that she never has to experience that indignity or discomfort.

He guides her to straddle him, pushing her upwards towards his face, but she falters.

“Osferth, I’ll crush you!” She protests, hovering above him.

“You won’t, my lady.” He tells her with a soft chuckle, tugging insistently at her thighs.

She relents, hovering over his face. “What are you going to…oh!”

He cuts her off, gripping her outer thighs and runs the flat of his tongue against her centre. He can taste the remnants of her previous climax and hums at the sensation. She is sweeter than honeyed wine, an essence so pure it must be holy.

Tugging her flush against his face he laps at her like a man starved, sucking harshly against her pearl, before licking hungrily through the slick that gathers as she whines and writhes above him. If there is a Heaven then he has found it between her thighs and never wants to leave.

He strains painfully against his breeches beneath his robes as she begins to lose control, grinding against each flick of his tongue. He knows she will not last long, already sensitive from his earlier attention and so he savours each moment; her taste, her scent, the feel of her against his mouth and how she moves against him. She is a vision of beauty beyond comprehension as she sits astride him, thread thrown back, moans of ecstasy offered up to the night sky.

She was created in the image of all things good and pure, and his journey so far has led him to her; she is made for him, of this he is certain as she reaches the apex of her pleasure. He swallows down her release like it’s communion wine. In her gratification he is cleansed, reborn.

Osferth lays her down carefully on her bed roll afterwards, covering her body with his own. She appears almost drunk as she gazes up at him, eyes heavy lidded with a soft smile upon her lips.

“My sweet girl,” He coos to her, softly stroking her face. “Can you take more? Will you let me inside?”

As she opens her mouth to answer, the raucous laughter of Finan can be heard in the near distance. The group is returning.

Osferth moves quickly away from her, laying down on his own sleeping mat, watching her as her eyes flutter closed. He hopes she will dream of him. He hopes they will have further opportunities to explore each other. The Lord works in mysterious ways, and she is the most precious mystery he has yet to encounter.

#osferth #osferth x reader #osferth smut #the last kingdom #TLK #osferth fan fiction #osferth fanfiction #osferth fan fic #osferth fanfic #the last kingdom fan fiction #the last kingdom fanfiction #the last kingdom fan fic #the last kingdom fanfic #ewan mitchell

967 notes · View notes